Behind the Golden Eyes
by arisaswordheart
Summary: Edward, The Early Years [Pretty much]. Pretty positive so far, so I'll be continuing. Read and Review. Or Edward might have to go... [From the Spanish Influenza and onwards.]
1. Prologue

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Behind the Golden Eyes**

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**Prologue**

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_The Edwardian Era/Period_

_1901 – 1919_

Once, I was just an ordinary person.

While it was true our family was richer than most, we still were as ordinary as all the any of the others. We were upper middle class, moderately wealthy; my father being a successful lawyer and my mother was the faithful wife. My father, Edward Masen Senior, brought back presents for his wife; my mother, Elizabeth Masen, socialised, as was expected of her, with other ladies and I was the well mannered son – our life was comfortable, but as run of the mill as a life could be.

All I worried about was the war and the coming of my eighteenth birthday and I knew my mother was also worried. The day I turned eighteen, I would be eligible for the draft to go to war.

Little did we know that the Spanish Influenza would strike less than a month after the age was lowered to eighteen and that we needn't have worried at all – about that particular issue, anyway. There was something new to be concerned about.

Because that was when everything changed.

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**Author's Note (situated here for suspenseful reasons):** I am not American. I know close to nothing about American history. Do not kill me for any mistakes I have made – I'm researching as much as I can on the Spanish Influenza and the Edwardian Period. Not to mention I had to look up American middle classes – where lawyers belong to the higher middle class. 

**Upper middle class:** (ca. 15) White collar professionals with advanced post-secondary education such as physicians, professors, lawyers, corporate executives, and other management. (Courtesy of Wikipedia.)

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. I just play with the characters.

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	2. Spanish Influenza

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Behind the Golden Eyes

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**Chapter 1: Spanish Influenza**

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_1918 – Chicago_

To me, everything was dim, as I breathed uneasily through the suffering I faced. Somehow I knew that my father was gone and that my mother still laboured somewhere in the hospital, fighting for her life as hard as I was trying to. She had always been a fighter.

I was hot, very hot. I suppose this was because of fever, but didn't dare remove my blanket because I knew I would just be cold then. I was too weak to move anyway, what the doctor had determined to be 'extreme fatigue'.

I panted still, my mind wandering as I tried to ignore my own suffering. I wanted to just give up – I'd heard the other patients come in, coughing, their organs failing and them dying later in the day. I had to fight though, it was only me and my mother left – I could not leave her to live alone if she managed to survive this.

The Doctor came in – Doctor Cullen, I think they called him. He checked over me for a while and I opened my eyes blearily and looked up at the masked doctor. He possessed an unearthly sort of beauty, yet looked a little sinister with the face mask over his mouth and nose. After a while, he moved on to the next bed, where the next feverish, coughing and dying patient lay. I could hear the other doctors running around and treating patients as best as they could.

When I had looked at Doctor Cullen, however, I had noticed something, even in my muddle of thoughts which I had no way of sorting out. I coughed and he glanced my way before moving on regretfully. Yes, that was it. Doctor Cullen looked as if he wanted to run as fast as he could from room to room, day to night, all week, and try to help every patient that lay suffering in their beds – help every patient that came in dying.

I had been healthy; I did not know why this had happened – what had happened. All I knew was that it had happened and that's close to what others knew as well. People who were researching the flu, looking for ways to cure it, stop it, help immunity to it, did not understand as much as we did not. This provided no comfort.

Doctor Cullen ducked out again and I wondered where he was going before I slipped back into unconsciousness where the pain and suffering would not follow.

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I woke as I felt jolted and felt the sensation of moving. I dragged in a breath painfully and peered half-unconscious at the person who wheeled me. Where was I going? What were they doing? The questions floated in my mind, but my mouth did not have the inspiration – or the voice – to ask.

I finally made out that the person was Doctor Cullen, however and let out a slight moan. Where was he going? The route looked a little familiar.

"Shh…" Doctor Cullen breathed comfortingly as he pulled his mask off, looking up and down the corridor as if checking for watching eyes – or possibly listening ears. "This is what your mother wished."

I nodded once tiredly, but Doctor Cullen gave a curt nod which warned me to continue to be quiet. I was breathing less easily now and my head was even more clouded than previously.

I looked around blearily at the bodies in the room and a word came to mind.

Morgue.

Was I dead? This is what Mother wanted? But the words held no anger anymore, just a resigned tone to my fate.

I felt myself being lifted up and carried a little way away, then suddenly the speed of the movement increased – to the extent that even in my weakened and confused state, I did not believe that someone could travel that fast.

I was laid down on a bed, where I groaned softly again. I was dying, I knew it. I could see the blackness closing in, almost. There was no way the Doctor could so anything to help me now.

"I'm sorry." Doctor Cullen said softly, next to my ear.

"For…. what…." I whispered, panting, with what remained of my voice and air.

"You will see." He said sadly and then I felt something brush my neck – something wet and hard.

And then the pain began and I knew no more.

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Author's Note:** Hope it didn't drag – but setting necessary. Information on Spanish Influenza Courtesy of Wikipedia and the sites provided on Wikipedia's page. 

**Disclaimer:** Twilight is not mine. Don't even think about it.

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	3. Revelations

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Behind the Golden Eyes**

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**Chapter 2: Revelations**

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_Chicago – Carlisle's Room_

_Approx. 1918_

The burning pain I knew was probably either punishment from a higher power or the unbearable pain which strikes before the moment of death. It spread throughout my whole body and, in my weakened state, my body succumbed tiredly – though I had no idea what to.

As the pain finally receded, I realised that I could hear things and smell things and… but that didn't make much sense. I shouldn't be able to do that – not unless the afterlife really existed. What was happening? I couldn't quite understand.

_It is the third day. I wonder if Edward is …_

I sat up abruptly and heard that same voice in my head exclaim in surprise the same time as a figure stumbled back a few steps from the bed I was in. I took a few gulping breaths before I realised that it did not really do anything – that I did not feel any real need for it, just that I breathe because it was some sort of… habit. At the same time, however, I also realised that if I were truly dead, there would be no reason for me to be _awake_ in a room with Doctor Cullen either.

"Doctor…"

He smiled at me a little sadly before getting to his feet and coming over. I frowned at him, hearing those same voices in my head.

_I need to explain to him, but how should I begin? How to break it to him …_

"What do you …" I stopped as I heard the sound of my voice. It had not registered the first time, but now I could hear the difference in it.

"What do you need to tell me?" I finished, before adding. "Do you have a mirror?"

Doctor Cullen's eyebrows rose ever so slightly as a smile hovered around his mouth and he pulled a cupboard open, retrieving a circular engraved mirror from the depths. I looked over the pattern on the mirror for only a second as he passed it to me, and then focused on my reflection in the glass.

I looked much the same as always as I looked from the top of my head, downwards, angling the small mirror on my face. Bronze hair … then I stopped as I saw the colour of my eyes and there was the slightest crunching sound as the glass began to shatter under my grip. I released my hold immediately, astonished at my strength – especially after living so long in the frailness caused by my illness.

"Oh. Sorry."

I released the mirror and placed it on the table gently. One of the edges was crumbling and I glanced at Doctor Cullen sheepishly. His eyebrows had risen a little more as he glanced at the piece of glass.

I heard the strange voice come out of nowhere once again. It sounded like Doctor Cullen, yet his lips did not move. The tone sounded amused and rather cheerful. Underneath it though, I felt his worry and guilt. I didn't understand.

"Doctor…"

"Carlisle." He interrupted. "Call me Carlisle."

I blinked at him and then nodded. "Carlisle."

"Good. Yes?"

_Is he going to ask?_ The voice said anxiously although Carlisle's face was still carefully composed and touched with amusement.

"What… am I?"

"You are, what we call…" He paused and watched my expectant face. The voice whispered again. _A…_It cut off.

Carlisle was looking at me again with an anxious hesitant look on his face. I wanted to withdraw my question, beg him to forgive me for paining him with a question like that. I was drawn to the man – his caring look, the kindness and patience I remembered clearly from the hospital. This was a question I needed the answer too, however. I was supposed to be dead and this was in no way normal.

Carlisle ploughed on, worry, hesitation and some pain I couldn't quite place now evident in his usually calm, reassuring doctor's tone.

"You are a … a vampire."

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My mind rejected Carlisle's explanation even as my body slowly drank it in and realised it to be true. Now that I understood what was happening, I could definitely feel the burn of thirst – for not water, but what I knew would probably be blood, human at that – at the back of my throat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control myself.

"Two questions, please."

"Yes?" _What is he going to ask?_

"First of all…" My eyes snapped open. "Do all vampires hear voices?"

"Voices?" He frowned now. "No, we don't. What do you mean voices?"

I could hear the voice speeding up and running at full speed, searching through memories and throwing theories at itself. Himself? Although I still did not understand completely, from the way the voice sounded exactly the same as Carlisle's and his lips were not moving as he was not saying anything, I had the hunch that perhaps it was his thoughts – as frightening as that seemed. At least it was better than admitting to yourself you were mad – and now I could finally understand why people denied to themselves the fact that they could be.

"Carlisle. Do you think I…" I struggled for a way to explain it. "Read minds? Hear minds?"

The odd voice raced again and realised that I could be right – because some vampires have special abilities, usually based on how they were when they were alive. My parents had always told me I was good at guessing someone's thoughts, so this did make sense – in a way. My eyes widened as I continued to hear and I saw Carlisle's mouth open to say something before he stopped.

_I could try… Hello, Edward._

"Hello." I said automatically, before I stopped myself and glanced back at Carlisle. He grinned at me and his face seemed to be relieved.

_I'm glad. I didn't know if I had done the right thing, especially when watching him in pain for the last three days. Is he accepting this? His mother begged though, I couldn't re… you're listening, aren't you, Edward?_

Carlisle was smiling at me still. "I'm used to a bit more privacy though."

"Oh. Sorry. I'm not sure how to use this … skill."

"Don't worry yourself." He nodded to me then. "You'll get the hang of it in the future. Actually…" he began to muse. "I know someone with an ability that is close to yours. Maybe…"

_No. That would be a bad idea to take him there. Aro wouldn't be pleased …_

I ignored that thought – I couldn't understand it. I was more curious about what my mother had done and why Carlisle had decided to take action. I wanted to interrupt, then realised that there was something I should have asked a while ago. That maybe that thought had concerned me more than I had thought.

Carlisle seemed to still be thinking, however, and an image appeared in his mind. Somewhere dark and five figures stood. One spoke and Carlisle replied, though I could quite make out what they said. Their eyes glowed bright red even in the gloom and the few rays of sunlight that drifted in made their skin sparkle. I recognised it as a memory. It seemed as long as their thoughts were on it, they would be powerless to stop me from reading – or hearing or looking. At any speed as well, probably. I had noticed that although Carlisle was speaking a little faster than was normal – in excitement or anxiety perhaps – I had no difficulty hearing him at all. Volume probably did not make that much of a difference either.

Carlisle turned back to me again and I heard his mind burn with things he needed to say, to tell me, to show me. He was not alone for the first time in centuries – and that felt great. I pushed aside my second question for the time being – I wanted to learn more about this man. He knew me and had saved me, yet I knew nothing about him.

"I have time now. All the time in the world, by what you told me. You know all about my life from my records, tell me about yours. How you ended up like this yourself."

He smiled. "With your ability, I'll do better than that."

"I'll show you."

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**Author's Note:** You don't need to know what Carlisle told him (before). It's just to avoid having to explain the whole vampire thing to people who already know vampires are frozen bodies which don't change, they can't die, they sparkle in the sun and that kind of general information. You already know what Carlisle will show Edward too. For more info, check Twilight. So there you go. You know what he said and showed, and now you don't need the transcript. 

I fixed the Prologue. Hopefully it will sound better now.

Oh yeah… I don't only use Wikipedia, it's just the only one I really cite. Sorry. ;D

**Disclaimer:** Twilight mine? Psh.

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Sorry I pulled the last version of this off minutes after I stuck it in. I figured out what was wrong. There was some time confusion for a while. It still doesn't flow quite right in some bits, but it's better than it was.

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	4. Passing

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Behind the Golden Eyes**

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**Chapter 3: Passing**

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_Chicago - Carlisle's Room_

_Approx. 1918_

"There was a second question, as I rightly remember."

He would. He'd told me about his life and his history and then explained how he could remember it all so clearly. Photographic memory? There was not really much of a way you could really forget anything.

"Yes. What did my mother say?"

Carlisle's brow furrowed, but he knew by now that there wouldn't be much of a point not to tell me or show me about it. It was already there on the skirts of his mind, but I had managed to get more of a hold on my power, and ignored it, respecting his right not to show me. Though it _was_ cheating that I knew he was seriously considering telling me anyway.

He gave in and I watched my mother's dying scene and her plea with him to do what noone else could. I understood, but couldn't help feeling slightly resented towards Carlisle even though he had truly carried out my mother's wishes. I wondered if she had really known what Carlisle was. I doubted it, but my mother was extremely insightful when she needed to be. Carlisle was studying my face when I turned back.

"I thought you might feel that way." He murmured and I could guess what he was thinking before I even heard it from his mind – not completely able to be ignored.

I could hear and feel the anxiety and worry over what he had done, his gladness as he was finally not alone, his uncertainty as he wondered if I would stay, his desire to not kill a human, to not be a monster.

I didn't detect his emotions, but I could hear them in his thoughts. I looked through his eyes first hand and, although I understood perfectly, that was what made it worse. That it made so much sense, that it did seem right. I completely understood his motives and his beliefs, even if I didn't want to.

"Are you going to hunt humans then?" Carlisle asked in a whisper, although it sounded as loud as if he had just spoken at normal volume.

I looked at him for a while. I understood perfectly why he didn't and didn't want to hunt humans, though I knew that my thirst probably would not we satiated merely by animals' blood.

"I don't know."

Carlisle nodded. He was allowing me a choice.

"You will stay though?"

"Where else do I have left to go? You are the only person I know. I will stay with you."

For now, I would do as Carlisle said.

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_1921 – Ashland, WI (Wisconsin)_

"What was the story this time, again?" I asked Carlisle, not pausing from my piano playing, as he came in somewhat tiredly from his night shift at the hospital.

He looked at me skeptically. "You know the story as well as I do. There's no way you could have forgotten."

"Yes, of course. Indulge me, please. How was work?"

Carlisle rolled his eyes. "Work was fine. Nothing interesting happened – as always." Then he sighed. "Oh, fine. I know you can't have forgotten, but just to 'indulge you', you are the young brother of my deceased wife. Remember?"

I grinned. "Of course. Thank you."

He rolled his eyes at me, putting away his work case as I played to the end of the piece and put down the lid of the piano. Hard to believe I had been with him for four years. In that time I had continued my education – as Carlisle had insisted – and had almost finished it.

Carlisle returned to the room now and I ignored his thoughts as usual. I'd gotten better at it through the past few years and I respected Carlisle's want of privacy. We'd also tested it many times to see if there was a range and to check what I could and couldn't see.

Carlisle was reading the paper on the couch now and I glanced over the front page. I hadn't had time to have a look at it yet. I'd merely fetched it this morning and dumped it on the table.

"Anything good?"

Carlisle raised his eyebrows up at me. "Good? Depends on your definition."

"You know what I mean."

He folded up the newspaper and threw it to me. I caught it deftly and rifled through it, glancing at the headlines and scanning a few articles as I looked through it quickly.

There was the sound of a car engine from outside and the crunch of gravel as it came up the drive. The crunching stopped and there was a slam of the car door as the occupant got out. Carlisle glanced at me and got up as quick footsteps sounded outside and there was a quick knock on the door. He motioned me to the door.

I unlocked and pulled open the heavy front door easily and watched the man in front of me pant, having run from his car which he hadn't been able to maneuver very well into the driveway. I could hear his thoughts and heard the urgency of them, but I stayed silent as I watched him expectantly and waited for him to speak.

"Doctor… Cullen …?" He managed to gasp out.

I turned and looked at Carlisle. His eyes asked a question and I tuned in to his thoughts again. I shook my head and he read the message I gave him, going over to the door quickly. I began to walk away, giving the pretense that I was giving them more privacy.

The man had finally caught his breath again and he told Carlisle, in a low but urgent voice, "There's a very badly injured woman down at the hospital, sir. Doctor Campbell isn't sure what to do. Could you please come down for an examination? You're the best doctor we have."

Carlisle looked very flattered and glanced back at me once. Go, I told him with my eyes. It wasn't as though I couldn't take care of myself, although Carlisle did like to try and spend time with me. I couldn't go and help him at the hospital, as I still hadn't formed enough self control to stop from drinking human blood, but I was able to live around humans without trying to kill them – at least for a time.

Carlisle nodded to me once and left with the gentleman. I heard footsteps across the gravel again, accompanied by the murmur of conversation – over where she had been found apparently – and the crunch of gravel again as the car pull away.

Sighing, I went back over to my piano and opened up a folder which lay on the top. Studying the masses of musical notes on the half filled in sheet, I pulled a pencil from the folder and went back to work.

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**Author's Notes:** I think you all know who that person is. A badly injured woman? Hm. 

The chapter's name relates firstly to the passing of time, secondly to Edward's passing (I suppose) and his mother's and thirdly to Esme's what-could-be-death. I didn't want to call it Passing of Time, so there you go.

I don't think I like this chapter very much either… but it serves.

**Disclaimer:** If I ever told you I owned Twilight, shoot me with this gun. -hands you a pistol-

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